


Masquerade

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, Helpful Q, Jealous James Bond, Know-it-all Eve Moneypenny, M/M, Masked Blue Baller, Not a real plot but no porn either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6313144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MI6 has a biannual masquerade which James hates with a burning passion. That is, until he meets a masked man which loves to tease him. James does his best to find out who he is and Q helps him - because his Quartermaster always helps him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this turned out to be a lot longer than intended and no actual sex in it because it would have taken me even longer.
> 
> Please enjoy and forgive all mistakes.

As a double oh agent, James had attended so many masquerades that he was bored out of his mind of them. Heck, one could argue that his entire life was nothing more than just one giant and never ending masked ball, so why the hell was he forced to attend the biannual one MI6 was throwing?

 

“Because it’s a pleasant form of teambuilding,” Tanner explained calmly for what had to be the tenth double oh that day. “And no, we can’t go back to paintball because your department can’t remember that it is supposed to be a friendly match, the normal agents keep trying to land headshots on the management, and everyone in the technical department somehow manages get sick on exactly that day.”

 

James was visibly disappointed to have that idea shot down, especially since there were a few rookies that needed to be shown that he was still worthy of his double oh title. “Okay, then how about a friendly game of—”

 

“You already know M’s answer to whatever you are about to suggest, Bond,” Tanner interrupted him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suggest you go home and pick out a costume and a mask for the party and remember that a medical team will be sent to your exact location if you claim to be sick.”

 

Well, there goes that plan. He could try to get himself arrested for something minor, but he was pretty sure that MI6 had a special budget set aside just to pay the bail for all agents who tried that trick. “I take it that M is still upset over the empty embassy I blew up on my last mission?”

 

Tanner clicked his tongue, clasping his hands behind his back. “She was tempted to put a bounty on your head just for the sake of it and the Prime Minister seemed incline to agree to her revenge plan, but Q talked them out of it. That boy would have been an excellent lawyer if he hadn’t become our Quartermaster,” Tanner murmured, frowning when he checked his mobile phone.

 

He made a mental note to get Q something nice for putting his job on the line for the millionth time and muttered his goodbyes to Tanner, mature enough to admit when he was defeated and respectful of his good friend not to stress him even more than he already was.

 

In the elevator he bumped into Eve, who looked to be in better spirits than Tanner, greeting him with a friendly smile. “Are you going to attempt wearing an actual costume tonight? Or are you going for the Zorro mask, just like last year?”

 

“I was actually thinking about coming dressed as a spy who is trying to infiltrate a fancy party.” He might be forced to attend it, but no one could force him to wear an actual costume if he didn’t want to. “Will M come as a witch or actually get a costume this time?”

 

“007, I see you have your arshole costume on,” M’s voice came from right behind him, James ready to swear on what little was left of his soul that the temperature dropped a few degrees. Even Eve shivered and held her tablet closer to her chest. “And I can’t help but congratulate you on how perfect the costume fits you, even if the party is a few hours away.”

 

“It is only fitting that I congratulate you as well for your costume, even though you wear it daily,” he shot back, enjoying the glare M was giving him. “I will sadly see you in a few hours, M. I do hope I won’t lose my vision when that happens.”

 

The woman put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it with so much power that James didn’t think the woman wasn't aware of the age had. “We will have a medical staff on call just in case you experience any apparent loss of vision during the _five_ hours you will be present at the party.” Five hours? M was being extra mean today. “And Bond, if you try to weasel your way out of the party before that time is up, I _will_ lock you in a room and keep you in there until you write a ten page report for _each_ of the missions you had since you became an agent.”

 

Yes, M was being extra cruel today. Then again, her husband had worked in the building he had blown up and even if no one was in it when that happened, he blamed her cold anger on her sentimental attachment to the place.

 

***

 

Clearly some people loved this biannual torment because James was playing a wallflower alongside his double oh colleagues and a silently fuming Quartermaster in a huge room filled to the brim with all sort of superheroes and creatures, all laughing and dancing.

 

“The alcohol is too weak,” 008 grumbled, tossing back what had to be his sixth cocktail in thirty minutes.

 

“I will not have my minions suffer headaches just because you lot have alcohol for blood,” the head boffin calmly explained, checking his watch. “I would advise you to pop in a gas station to supply yourself with what you need, but since I saw Tanner collect all outside bottles at the entrance…” He trailed off and took a small sip from his juice, glancing yet again at his watch.

 

James wondered if Q’s watch exploded like his or if he truly had the only one that did that in this entire world – all the other double ohs had been quite vocal of their jealousy at the equipment he got, especially since Q silently gave him a new exploding watch after each mission. “Are you forced to attend this horrid thing for a certain amount of hours like I am?” he asked instead, signalling 008 to switch seats with him so he could sit next to Q.

 

“At exactly midnight my vacation starts which means that I can leave go home without having to go to M’s weekly meetings with the Prime Minister.” Q finally looked away from his watch, studying James. “Secret agent costume?”

 

Grinning, James nodded and tugged on the lab coat Q had over plain street clothes. “And you are a lab technician? You know, you should have come dressed as a double oh. If you get your suit down at my shop, you’ll feel as if you’re wearing nothing.”

 

Q chuckled. “No to your costume suggestion, but it seems that I can’t get anything past you, can I, Bond? I think you should have come dressed as Sherlock.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next masquerade,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and bumped elbows with his favourite boffin in the entire world. “So, where are you going in this little vacation of yours? Or is it a long one? I’ll just die if I don’t get to count your spots at least once a month.”

 

“I don’t have spots, Bond. You, on the other hand...” He trailed off and plucked a strand of hair from James’ head, grinning mischievously. “I should start calling you double oh seventy.”

 

“Do that and I will replace all your precious Earl Grey with coffee,” James warned, flicking Q’s nose.

 

“If I catch you even so much as looking at my tea, I will—” Q’s threat got interrupted by a little beeping noise which had all the double oh agents around him jump to their feet and looking around for what they suspected to be a bomb. “Excuse the scare, agents,” the Quartermaster mumbled, turning his watch off. “It is just my alarm to let me know that as of this moment, I am a free man.”

 

“You can’t leave me here to suffer alone,” James said in an almost begging way.

 

Q leaned closer to him and patted his head, grinning. “I can and I will, especially since you are to blame for this punishment of ours.” He pulled off his lab coat and dropped it on the chair he was sitting on, smiling brightly. “Enjoy the rest of the party, Bond.”

 

His favourite boffin was out the door in a flash and James groaned, slumping even more in his chair. Q’s company would have made the five hours feel like five seconds and James had even made a plan to keep the man’s attention trained on him for the entirety of the night. But like the wisp he was, Q managed to slip from his metaphorical grasp, leaving him with nothing but boredom and annoyance. Or so he thought.

 

Not half an hour later and a man who had a wolf’s mask that showed only his mouth and wearing a suit that hugged his body just in the right spots stopped right in front and held his hand out to him as the music slowed down.

 

“You want to dance with me?” James asked slowly and the mysterious man smiled, nodding and wiggling his fingers as if he was asking him to move already. “What if I am not in the mood to dance?” The man pouted for a second and then bit his lower lip, grabbing James’ hands. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” The silent man shrugged and smiled again, licking his red lips. “I should shoot you down in the metaphorical way just to teach you a lesson, but...” He trailed off and got up, pulling the man against him, resting his hands just above the man’s ass.

 

They rubbed against each other for hours, James doing his best to get at least a little noise out of the man since he refused to let even a single word pass those tempting – and lipstick covered – lips. But the most he got was a grunt and a little whimper.

 

When people started to leave, his intentionally mute partner dragged him off of the dance floor and pushed him inside a bathroom, attacking his neck. It was more than clear what the man wanted from him and even though James’ mind was still preoccupied with how the Quartermaster might spend his days off, he was still aware of how hot the familiar man was and he wasn’t going to turn him down.

 

He kicked a stall open and sat down on a toilet, pulling the man in his lap as he tore open his shirt, licking down his chest. The man slowly rubbed against him and started to open his pants, biting his fist to keep himself from moaning.

 

“I know you quite well, don’t I?” James whispered, brushing his hands against the edges of the man’s mask. “Why don’t we end this little hot game right now and let me see who you are so your name could echo off this bathroom’s walls?”

 

That turned out to be an instant turn off for his partner, the man out of the stall in the blink of an eye. James was quick to give chase, having trouble keeping up with the man not because he was fast, but because he knew shortcuts that James didn’t – yet he always made sure that James saw through which door he was going or which wall was not an actual wall, even whistling twice to show him the way.

 

It was actually quite hot and it made James’ pants tighter. “If I promise not to go for the mask again, will you allow yourself to be caught?” He literally bumped into his answer when he turned the corner and the man pulled him on top of him as he fell down. “But am I allowed to try to find out who you are through other means?”

 

The man shrugged and bit his neck hard enough to leave behind a mark before slithering out from under him and ducking behind a corner, eyes that were too blue to be real teasing him from behind a corner. “I’ll take that as an open invitation, yes?” James asked just to be sure and the man winked, using his slender finger to signal him closer.

 

They continued their little game for a few good minutes, the man discarding his shoes, jacket, and shirt the deeper they got into MI6. James licked his lips as he picked up item, planning on jumping the almost naked man until he realized that the not-quite stranger had entered Q’s office the mood was completely ruined as far as he was concerned.

 

Though many might be tempted to think that James had no respect for the Quartermaster, his domain, or the gadgets the man made for him, but he honestly did.  “No, we’re not doing anything in here,” he breathed out, holding the man’s clothes out to him. “We can do it in the lobby or M’s office for all I care, but not in my Quartermaster’s office. This place is sacred, okay?”

 

The man looked surprised and made to sit down on the sofa to pull his shoes on, but James stopped him and pulled him outside. “No one touches anything, even his sofa or chair, when the Quartermaster isn’t in his office, unless they are close to dying and they need a place to be dramatic,” James quoted his Quartermaster, the mysterious man looking amusedly at him.

 

His words also earned him a little peck on the lips, but before he could turn it into an actual kiss, one of Q’s minions – the one that probably listed hating him as a bloody hobby at how horrible he was treating him – walked in. “Agent, I really do not wish to call the Quartermaster and inform him that you have turned our department into…” He trailed off when he saw the door to Q’s office opened and he instantly reached for his phone, the masked man getting to him before James could.

 

He whispered something in the minion’s ear that had him practically running for the hills, throwing an apology over his shoulder, something which made James’ jaw metaphorically hit the ground. “You must tell me how you managed to get rid of that pest so fast. He bugs my Quartermaster with me even when I do something as innocent as breathing too close to him.”

 

The man winked at him and stuck out his tongue, patting James’ shoulder.

 

“So, want to go to a hotel? I would say a utility closet, but I am sure that by now they are already taken.” A hum and a tap on his watch got James to check it, groaning when he realized that he couldn’t leave for one more hour. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know how M has decides to punish me?” He grumbled, tilting his head back to give the man more access to his neck.

 

He forgot where he was and had his hands down the man’s pants when a computer beeping loudly got their attention. The computer beeped again and the man jumped off of him, backing out of the room just as minions started to pour in, R pushing everyone out of her way.

 

“I swear that I didn’t touch anything,” James said automatically when R glanced in his direction. “It just went off on —”

 

“I know,” R grumbled, pushing James out of her way so he could input a string of commands, face losing colour with each new line of text that appeared on the screen. “Go into Red Code and get M and the Quartermaster in here _now_ ,” she ordered and every minion present ditched their masks and sat down in their assigned seats, two of them on their phones.

 

James was mesmerized about the perfect synchronization between the boffins around him, all moving and typing in an almost musical way. “Should I go after the Quartermaster?” He asked after what about ten minutes of just staring at them.

 

“No need to as I am already here,” Q panted out, hair a mess, glasses askew, _slippers_ on his feet that matched the pyjama top he had. At least he had an actual pair of pants on. “If you want to help, keep your funny-to-no-one-who-hears-them one-liners to yourself until I am done with this.”

 

More minions came in over the course of the next two hours and M was pacing around like a caged lion, occasionally looking over Q’s shoulder when she was called over. And that probably amazed him the most because that woman once took a left turn and drove directly into a tree just because James dared to tell her she needed to make a right and yet she was hovering behind Q the second he signalled her over.

 

Just how important was what they were doing, he wanted to ask, but a single look from Q had him shut his mouth and take a seat out of the boffins’ movement area, trying to see if there was a pattern in their crazed dance so he could sneak to his Quartermaster without bothering anyone.

 

“Go home and rest, 007,” M ordered. “We might need to send you in as backup and I don’t want to have to fill in two death certificates and make two eulogies.” She actually meant ‘go home, Bond, because I do not want you to distract or bother the Quartermaster’, but this was not the time to correct her in front of her staff.

 

With one final glance in Q’s direction and a quick look around to room just in case his would-be bed partner was there, James did as he was told.

 

No one called him and the following day, he was drinking coffee by Alec’s side in Medical, Q sleeping in the most uncomfortable and strange position James had ever seen in the other bed.

 

“Isn’t he a little bit too young to be here?” Was the first thing Alec said when he was done making sure that the room was real and that James really was there and not just a figment of his imagination or an enemy agent who had been operated to look like his long time friend.

 

“He’s the new Quartermaster, actually,” James said softly, smiling without wanting when he turned to look at him. He was going to send his masseuse to help him get rid of the bad back he was sure to have when he woke up.  

 

Alec gaped. “At this age? Is he even out of school?”

 

He tried to lean over to poke the sleeping man, but James held him down. “He’s the reason why you are not back in a box, Alec. Also why you didn’t come to find me getting my eternal rest and why the world isn’t controlled by my psychopathic step-brother.”

 

Alec blinked slowly and sat up a little, James helping him to arrange his pillows. “The two of us clearly have a lot to talk about. Start with the kid—”

 

“He’s almost 32, you know,” James chimed in and Alec’s eyes boggled even more, doing a double take on the sleeping man.

 

“Okay, start with the kid-looking Quartermaster and finish with your step-brother.”  

 

***

 

Q had been kind enough to help James with finding the mysterious man, but he still couldn’t find anything. The cameras inside and outside didn’t pick up anything interesting and the biometrics for that night had been checked by R when Q was recovering and then promptly deleted, her report stating that no one tried to get in places where they weren’t authorized.

 

“Just how interesting was this man that you are still searching for him after all this time?” Q asked when James waltzed in his office with the usual mug of tea, bag of food from his favourite Chinese place and whatever small gift the agent had picked up as a bribe for that day.

 

“Familiar, not interesting,” James corrected Q, pulling his chair with him in it away from his cluttered desk and to the one where he usually ate.

 

Q turned to glance at him. “So you are bribing me to look for a boring man?”

 

James caught Q’s nose between his fingers and squeezed it gently, chuckling when the thin man tried to hurt him with his bony elbow. “I didn’t mean to imply that he was boring. He was interesting and I am sure that he was great in bed,” Q rolled his eyes before he turned back to his screen, complaining about James’ libido and tendency to give out too much information, “but it is the familiarity that has me fixated on him.”

 

“You’re not even going to try to argue the bribing part?”

 

“My dear Quartermaster,” James whispered right in his ear, running his hands up his arms before starting to push his thumbs in his shoulder, gently beginning to massage him, “I’ve told you before that I’ve become addicted to doing little things for you which might be seen as bribes if you offer me something in return if you think that is what I am after.”

 

Q wasn’t aware of it, but every time James did something that was even slightly nice for him, his eyes would soften and become brighter, his lips forming a little smile. James was really tempted to take a picture when that happened and show it to Q – maybe he would understand then why he called it an addiction.

 

“Do you want me to Google ‘personal space’ for you, Bond?” It was funny that Q was actually doing his best to push James away, face up against his stomach and everything – the position they were in could be considered compromising, but the only minion who dared to enter without a knock slowly and silently walked out when James turned to glare at him. “Have the decency to move at least a step back when I am doing this, you pest,” Q hissed.

 

It was pleasant to have the Quartermaster rubbing his face against his stomach, but if it went on for any linger, his glasses might get pushed off. So he took a step back and ruffled his hair winking when the man growled. “I believe you said you did some upgrades to the facial recognition program. Didn’t that help?”

 

Q looked apologetic, opting to focus on the food instead of James’ eyes. “Too much of his face was covered, so the system pulled up about 132 possible matches. I have them all on that USB stick over there; feel free to go nag those people on your time off, but don’t expect me to visit you in Medical if they each decide to break at least one of your bones.”

 

James ruffled his hair again and ran away before Q could start throwing grenades or knives that had been dipped into poison after him – the man had a really good aim for someone who was rendered blind without his glasses.

 

Even with Alec’s help, three months passed before he was doing checking everyone on the list and on the day of the new masquerade, James came in Q’s office with his gift for that day – it had become a sort of ritual for him, coming in MI6, dropping those three items on Q’s desk, get teased and then assured that things would work out in the end before resuming his pestering – and threw himself on the semi-decent sofa.

 

“Good morning to you too, Bond. I see you are going with the ever classical spy costume for the masquerade,” Q uttered without looking away from what he was doing. “I am assuming that Alec would have opted for tracksuit enthusiast one if he wasn’t on vacation still.”

 

James shrugged. “Probably; or maybe opt for Adam’s costume just to see if M’s forehead vein would pop this time.” He moved closer and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing, getting lost for a moment in the forest that Q’s perfume conjured up in his mind. “I understood that you increased the security system for tonight.”

 

Q remained silent for a few good minutes, James patiently waiting for him to be finished with the gadget – which they would probably be given to him and he already felt bad for how damaged he would return it, if he even did that. “Nothing major; just added a camera to the biometrics installed on the doors that lead to main floor which will require everyone who has a mask to take it off and state their name before entering.”

 

“Q –”

 

“Yes, yes, I will give you the list if your mystery man shows up.” He yelped when James suddenly picked him up and did a quick twirl with him in his arms, giving him a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

 

“This is why you are my favourite Quartermaster,” James exclaimed and gave Q a napkin to wipe his cheek.

 

“And here I thought it was because I do not castrate you or nail your balls to the wall after you lose equipment that’s worth billions of pounds.” He chucked the napkin at James’ head, narrowing his eyes. “Now bugger off and let me finish my work; I want to catch my train.”

 

Open invitation to leave with James took as an invitation to pull up a chair next to him and start interrogating him. “Train to where, Quartermaster?”

 

“None of your business, agent; go away.” He tried to push the agent’s chair away with his leg, but all he managed to do was get his stuck between James’. “Really, Bond?”

 

The young man was just too easy to tease and James couldn’t help himself. Q was just too adorable when he glared at him, lips slightly pursed, tapping either his foot against the floor or fingers against the arms that he crossed over his chest – however, the single instance in which James had seen an agent genuinely being mean to Q, he had ensured that the man couldn’t use his mouth for two months. “I just want to be sure that the best agent is the first to get to wherever you are if you need help, Quartermaster.”

 

Pushing the back of a pen against James’ chest, Q grinned. “I have 009 on speed dial.” He turned the side of the pen and James found himself up against the wall, his body stinging and his mind confused.

 

“What was that?” He slurred, the muscles in his face not quite recovered.

 

“That was the effect of a brand new gadget that you won’t get to play with if you make me lose my train.” He twisted the pen and then turned it towards a bare wall, click on it to put a dent in it. “It also does that.”

 

“But it doesn’t explode?” James teased and ended up with a few CD bulks and USB sticks thrown at him.

 

“I hope you get blue balls tonight, you mummified pest,” Q shouted after him, slamming the door shut before James could think of a comeback – not that it mattered because he had Q’s phone number, so he could text him later.

 

Though he might not see that later, if the way the minions were looking at him meant anything. “Just friendly teasing and nothing more, I promise.” Their eyes narrowed even more and James gulped because even the best double oh agent wouldn’t stand a chance in front of an army of angry boffins.

 

“ _007, stop distracting my minions,”_ Q’s voice drifted from somewhere above him and immediately everyone returned to their typing and tinker, James letting out a small sigh of relief. “ _And go home already._ ”

 

One day he will learn to keep his mouth shut, but today was not that day. “Bring me something nice from wherever you are going.”

 

 _“If anyone has painful, yet nonlethal gadgets that they would like to use, feel free to use the double oh agent who just so gracefully offered to be your lab rat.”_ At least he was kind enough to make sure his minions didn’t kill him.

 

***

 

James walked around the room like a caged animal. People were quick to move out of his way and he kept hearing whispers about how he was this annoyed because the Quartermaster had turned him down _._ The only person who was brave enough to walk up to him and have an actual conversation that went beyond wishes of a good party was Eve.

 

The little smile she had on her face tipped James off that the rumours had escalated and she was more than enjoying what she was hearing. “Do you know that some of them placed bets on whether or not the Quartermaster put a device around you genitals to send little electric shocks to your brain every time you get an erection?”

 

He snorted and emptied his fifth glass. “Don’t let Q hear that because he might do something like that just to punish me whenever I fail to bring back his equipment.”

 

“I’d call it a running joke if you weren’t wasting thousands of pounds every mission and if he wasn’t in constant trouble with M and the budgetary department because of you.” This was the first time James heard about that, but before he could march up to the head of MI6 and the other number crunches, Eve grabbed his arms. “Would you do me the great honour of dancing with me?”

 

“My darling, I think the honour belongs to me,” he whispered and flashed her one of his usual charming smiles, the music slowing down just as he wrapped her arms around her. But he was still looking around the room, suddenly turning Eve around so he could look at the door every time he heard it open.

 

She glanced behind her shoulder and then at James’ disappointed face, chuckling. “I’d feel insulted at your reaction if I had a crush on you.”

 

“Or if you didn’t have a boyfriend who looks like he contemplating coming up to me a challenging me to a bloody duel. Why is he dressed up as the Black Adder from the first season?”

 

Eve stepped on his foot. Hard. “At least he tried, you sloth. You are wearing the same exact outfit you had on this morning.”

 

“Experienced spy costume,” James said between greeted teeth, trying his best not to let out a little whine or hiss of pain. The woman managed to turn everything into a deadly weapon, even her shoes. “And your boyfriend still looks ridiculous, Eve.” She tried to stomp on his foot again, but James jumped back just in time. “You know you can’t get me twice with the same trick.”

 

They continued to dance for a while, James teasing her over her new lover – a sweet man that had no idea what Eve had been before taking on a secretarial position and who looked at her as if she was a goddess – and she trying to get him back by either tripping him or pushing him in M’s way.

 

“How is it that I am more of a babysitter than an intelligence agency director?” M growled, glaring at the two after they made her drop her glass of champagne. “Don’t even try to talk your way out of this,” he cut them off before they could even open their mouths. “Miss Moneypenny, you will start comparing the physical files with our digital ones tomorrow at noon. As for you, Bond...” She trailed off, narrowing her eyes.

 

She realized that he was actually enjoying himself at this party, so she couldn’t punish him with that – James made a mental note that in the future, he would make sure to look miserable every time the woman looked at him, no matter where they were and what was happening. She also knew that James practically adored this Quartermaster, so sticking him as the young man’s helper for a few days was out of the question. As was banning him from MI6, sending him on any time of missions – even the ones in which he had to be a bodyguard for a child or a spoiled rock star – and he loved cars, so garage duty would probably have him hum with Quartermaster over his shoulder – because the young genius was also fascinated by cars.

 

With that in mind, James was perfectly safe. Eve, however, was a demon that liked her revenge served hot. “Might I suggest that he assist me with the files?”

 

New mental note: Eve is really protective of her lover; never mock the poor man again. “M, it really was just a simple mistake.” He grabbed a new glass off of a tray and turned to give it to his boss, dropping it just as the woman was about to take it.

 

“007, what do you think—”

 

“Send me the bill later,” he breathed out as he started to follow the masked man with the empty tray and the teasing smile.

 

The man put the tray on a table and turned around just as James caught up to him, wrapping his arms around the agent’s neck without being prompted. His eyes were red now, clearly wearing contacts and his hair colour was still a mystery. But the body felt familiar to James, although not in an intimate manner – so he had hugged or brushed up against him at one point, but nothing more.

 

“Do you plan on telling me who you are?” The man grinned, winked and shook his head. “I do like a good challenge, but my clever Quartermaster might have ruined your little game with what he installed at the door.”

 

Silent laughter was the answer he got and the two continued to dance into the night, rubbing against each other and kissing for so long that James actually felt lightheaded – James also noted the faint taste of tea that hid behind that of heavy mint that usually came from toothpaste. The man’s perfume also remained a mystery, as he smelled of at least four different ones, one of which was the exact same brand he used.

 

“What do you say to getting out of here and continuing this type of dancing,” he grinded against the man, biting his lower lip to force him to let him hear the shaky moan that escaped him – and god, that had to be the most erotic noise he had heard in ages – “back at my place?”

 

The man hummed and pulled away from James, taking his hand and leading him towards the door. So he was down with that plan, excellent, James thought as he grinned and gave Eve a thumb up, the woman rolling her eyes before turning her attention back to her lover – who still looked ridiculous in James’ mind, even if it was fogged up with need and desire.

 

Driving home had never been more torturous of James. The man kept drawing little circles with his slender fingers just over his tight, pinching every time James turned to look at him or moved his hand off the wheel with the clear intention of unzipping his pants.

 

“You’re going to have to tie me down once we get home if you want to control me this much.” He liked the glint in the man’s eyes as he leaned against his chest, the hair to his mask tickling his neck, finger slowly going down his tie. “Oh, that’s exactly what you are planning to do, isn’t it?”

 

The man chuckled and nodded and for James, the speed limits became nonexistent, especially since every stop light appeared to be on their side and the streets were practically empty – and even if they weren’t, James knew enough back streets that they would have never had to sit behind a slow moving care for more than a few seconds.

 

“You know,” James whispered in his partner’s ear, leaning over to unbuckle the seatbelt for him, “the green miracle that just happened servers to prove that you are part of my wonderful Quartermaster’s team.”   

 

The man stuck his tongue out and James opted to read that as an open invitation for a kiss, which he was more than happy to give him. It didn’t take long for both of their pants to be open and for their shirts to lose buttons, but just as James had finally pulled the man on his lap, someone knocked on the window a shined a flashlight in his eyes.

 

“Ah, Mister Bond,” the building’s security officer said embarrassedly once he got a good look at his face. “I am so sorry, but I didn’t recognize the plate number or the car and I thought—”

 

“Absolutely no problem as long as you turn around and walk away without saying anything else,” James interrupted him, already missing the other man’s body heat.  

 

They barely reached James’ bedroom, first getting distracted by each other in the elevator and then tripping on the sofa, where most of their clothes got discarded. The man still kept his mask though and pushed James on the bed, sitting on top of him as he slowly moved his hips, smirking down at the aroused agent.

 

“Enough with the teasing,” James growled out and wrapped his arms around his partner, pulling him down for a kiss, dragging his hands down his back and in his boxer briefs, squeezing his butt-cheeks.

 

But the man stopped James when he tried to remove that last article of clothing, sitting up and shaking his head, wiggling his finger. He motioned for James to wait as he hopped off of him, recovering their discarded ties, carefully wrapping them around James’ wrists.

 

“Oh, so you do want to control me, do you?” James purred and wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, pushing him down on him so they could kiss.

 

For a moment, the man forgot all about tying James up, moving his hands around his face so he could deepen the kiss. When James swirled his tongue around the man’s and suddenly buckled up, the room was filled with the most maddeningly hot whines of pleasure and moans.

 

“I’ll know who you are the second I get you to scream my name,” James promised against the man’s lips, sitting back down on the bed to quickly take note of how his body looked – frail, pale as ever, a little bit of muscle on the arms and on his abdomen, but definitely needing to eat more. 

 

The man’s eyes seemed to say that they accepted the challenge and he leaned over James to slowly kiss him, nimble fingers tightly tying the ties to the headboard. James tried to hold him where he was, loving the way he slowly drew little circles above him with his hips, but the thin man knew just where to pinch to make him lose focus.

 

It was clear that this wasn’t the man’s first rodeo and James planned on sitting back and enjoying the show the man appeared to be putting on, the way he slowly ran his hands down his chest, head tilted back, hips moving in a slow rhythm that only he heard.

 

He slid his fingers in his boxer briefs, tugging them down just enough for the tip of his member to peek out. He stopped for a moment and bit his lower lip as he shuddered, drumming his fingers over the exposed part.

 

“Loving the show, my mysterious little tease, but I think I can make it even more interesting if you’d let me help you with that huge problem,” James offered, tugging on his restraints.

 

The man stuck his tongue out at him, placing his finger on it before pushing it inside his mouth and beginning to suck on it slightly. It dawned then on James was his partner was up to and he tried again to free himself, but to no avail.

 

“The only one who’s going to do the touching tonight will be just you, right?” The man grinned and sat back on James’ legs, pulling his boxer briefs further down, fully exposing himself. “But I can make you feel so much more pleasure, honestly.”

 

The man shook his head, sitting back on James’ legs before tugging on his boxer briefs a little bit more, but not completely taking them off. He looked at James questioningly, waiting to see if he was okay with this idea. “By all means, pleasure yourself on top of me all you want, but how about we make a deal?” What James assumed to be a raised eyebrow coupled with a hum and a bowed head seemed to be the man’s invitation for him to continue. “If I manage to free myself, I get to join in on your fun. Do we have a deal?”

 

A deep and slow kiss was his positive answer and the man continued to slowly run his hands down his chest and pinch his nipples, whimpering. James started to try to loosen up his restraints when the slim fingers wrapped around the hard member, a rub ripping a low man from the man’s swollen lips.

 

“You’re an expert at tying these things,” James groaned, as the man had started to rub his length against his through his boxers, sucking on his own middle finger. “Something tells me you plan on simply teasing me tonight.”

 

Something that was a chuckle combined with another moan drifted to his ear and the man continued to rub himself faster and harder against him, one hand sneaking in James’ boxers to rub and rolled his member in the palm of his hand.

 

James tried his best not to whimper, but the man’s touch was hard to ignore and when he felt him try to move away from him, he wrapped his legs around his hips and pushed him closer. “No, no, stay. Keep doing what you are doing,” he pleaded, moaning in the man’s mouth when he brought their lips together.   

 

The man suddenly turned and bit James’ shoulder, hard, muffling his moans and words as he came, the hand wrapped around his member squeezing harder but not enough to hurt him or give him release.

 

He placed little apologetic kisses on James’ shoulder after he managed to regain some semblance of a functioning brain and pulled his hand out of his boxers, James’ erection still obvious. “If I beg for it, will you give it to me?” James panted out, eyes half lidded.

 

The man rested his forehead against James’ and licked his lips, dragging his hands as slowly as he could down his chest, just to drive James madder with need and lust. How was it possible for someone to move so slowly? James couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten goose bumps and yet there he was, buckling up against the spent man as he lazily traced them with one hand and teasing the tip of his member.

 

He also looked like he was expecting James to do something and he had a pretty good idea what. “Please,” he breathed out, nose tickled by the mask’s hair. “Please,” he breathed out again and that seemed to be enough because the man started to move his hand down his member, slowly at first and then faster, fingers lose enough around it to twist without hurting.

 

Just as he was about to get that craved release, the man stopped and hopped off of him, grinning like the devil he was. “You aren’t seriously planning on leaving me like this, are you?” The man pretended to think for a moment before shrugging and getting up. “I am in real pain here.” Pleasant pain, but the man didn’t need to know that. “Is it because I might have annoyed the Quartermaster today?”

 

Lips that he wanted wrapped around his member moved slowly and precisely, no actual sound coming from them. Yet James still understood what the man was saying. “ _You deserve this but maybe next time I won’t tie you up._ ”If the man had been close enough, James would have tripped him and silence him with a kiss – which would have been good enough to make this the next time and have the man quiver, shake, and beg under him, the mystery of who he was finally revealed.

 

“At least give me a goodbye kiss,” James whined as the man carefully cleaned his stomach with a damp rag, expertly dodging the legs that were trying to trip them. “You do know that I’ll call my Quartermaster to ask who you are the second I free myself, right?”

 

The man nodded, pulled the covers on top of James and kissed the top of his head, placing his phone within reach before leaving and James really thought he was going to explode, because every time he struggled, the silk covers brushed against his throbbing member and made it harder.

 

“I’ll tie you down and see how you like it when I find out who you are,” he promised, finally tugging on his restrains hard enough to break the headboard. “Bloody tease... What did I ever do to him to deserve this?” He continued to grumble, flinching when the cold water hit him.

 

The cold shower ended up lasting fifteen minutes because every time his treacherous mind drifted back to the man, his soft touch, and his scent made him hard all over again. He had even started to bang his head against the wall, trying to knock those thoughts out.

 

One he was done, he picked up the phone and called Q. He was strangely disappointed when he heard the train whistle and then felt guilty when he heard the man’s tired voice, words slurred more than said. “ _What happened? Who’s attacking us? I don’t know where I am.”_

 

Before anything bad could happen, such as Q falling down from the bunk – because he was sure the man was sleeping on the bed on top, like a cat that loved heights but freaked out when he was in the actual sky – James spoke up. “Everything is okay, Q, and it sounds like you are in a train.”

 

 _“I know I’m in a train, Bond—Wait, Bond?_ ” The young man yawned and James pictured him feeling around for his glasses. “ _Is this about your mystery lover? Are you calling me to ask me to be a witness at your wedding or something? Because I am not cutting my vacation short to do that, no matter how many gadgets you destroyed.”_

 

“Shouldn’t that go something like ‘no matter how much I love you’?” It was funny and scary how easily James relaxed when he was talking with Q, their conversations having an air of familiarity that he only had with Alec and with Eve if the stars were aligned in a certain way – and he knew Q a lot less than them, so it really didn’t make any sense, especially since his relationship with the previous Quartermaster didn’t go beyond that of collegiality.

 

He could hear Q stretch, turning his head in that way that always scared James a little because of how loud his neck bone cracked – Q had assured him that he would never break his neck because he knew how to do it, but James was a fatalist, so he couldn’t really help it. “ _That’s what caught you attention? Not the fact that I asked you if you’re getting married?”_

James’ snorted, falling on his back in the bed. “That was so ridiculous that I decided not to tease you about it because I must have woken you up.” He lowered his voice just a tad and his face softened, picturing a sleepy Q trying his best to focus on him. “I did not mean to do that, by the way. I called you without thinking what hour it was.”

 

Q’s addicting and amusing laughter drifted in James’ ear and even though he knew he was about to get insulted, he couldn’t wait for it to happen. _“Well, acting without thinking is one of your character traits, Bond. I would have been worried if you actually used your brain for the first time in former. Now, tell me how you plan on using me today before your usual shtick puts me to sleep.”_

“My stick—” James started, but Q was quick to interrupt him.

 

“ _I said ‘shtick’, not ‘stick’, so don’t even try to bludgeon my brain with your terribly lame innuendos or comparisons, Bond.”_ He yawned again and James felt worse still because it was clear that Q was struggling to stay awake to have this conversation and he was beating around the bush instead of just telling him what he wanted – on the other hand, if he had asked directly, he would have felt like the biggest arse in the world because Q was not _just_ someone who was there to do things for the agent who snapped his fingers at him.

 

“Look, Q, I don’t want to keep you up more than I—”

 

“ _Oh, you’re having troubles with that already?”_ Q interrupted him, tisking. “ _I can’t help you with that, but you do not need to panic because it is normal at your age. If you talk with someone from Medical, they’ll fix you up with those blue pills.”_

 

“Very funny, Q,” James said dryly. “My little friend ran before I could find out who he is and I was hoping you could give me access to that new security measure you instated. And the first part of my bribe will come in the form of me telling you that your curse reaching me as the man made sure my balls were bluer than a smurf before he disappeared into the night.

 

Q groaned. “ _R will get that message only if you promise to never again desecrate my childhood memories.”_

 

“I swear on my cars that I will never do that again, Q.”

 

“ _The cars I give you for your missions or your own, personal ones?”_

He wished he could argue and claim that he took care of both types equally, but seeing that not two missions ago he had parked an MI6 Ferrari on the bottom of the Tiber. “My own personal ones, Q. You know those are my babies in the same way those two demons that you keep confusing for cats are yours.” And now that he remembered them, he was curious who had Q trued enough with their pampering and worshipping. “By the way, who got the end of that short stick?”

 

 _“I was thinking about sending you those files right away to spare you from waiting until M got done with looking through them and before R archived them, but not that you insulted my cats...”_ He trailed off and James heard him type a message on what had to be one of his many burner phones that he used for work. “ _R will contact you when you can view them. Anything else I can assist your Royal Majesty with?”_

 

“You could tell me where you’re—”

 

“ _Not on your life, Bond_ ,” Q snapped, all traces of sleep gone from his voice. “ _And don’t even think about playing the danger card because M and 009 know where I am going, so I have my back covered.”_

James hadn’t felt jealousy or insult in a long time, but the direction this conversation went in managed him to get him reacquainted with both of those horrible things. “009 is older than I am and, most importantly, married.” Why he brought the man’s marital status in this, he did not know.

 

“ _I was at his wedding and unlike you, I do not have a memory problem, so you really didn’t need to remind me that inconsequential detail. As for him being older than you... Well, despite his age, he has yet to blow up so much as a news stand and he always brings back his equipment in perfect condition.”_

 

“Which, if you ask me—”

 

 _“I did not ask you anything. In fact, people rarely ask you anything because of what comes out of your mouth,”_ Q said quickly, trying to stop Bond before he could start one of his rants, but the agent carried on as if nothing had happened.

 

“—makes him highly suspicious. Not that I am saying that he’s a traitor, but he might prepare the way to ask you for something big.”

 

Q tried to interrupt him again, but Bond just continued to indirectly badmouth the agent who annoyed him by officially being the Quartermaster’s favourite, stopping only when he heard the younger man’s light snoring and he realized that the sun was starting to rise.

 

“Have a nice rest, Q,” James whispered softly, smiling when the man murmured something unintelligible back and he ended the call after that, snuggling under his blanket. He decided to go out and buy something nice for Q – or track 009 down and ask him what he would get him and then buy something ten times better and bigger, just because he could.

 

***

 

James wanted to cry and R wanted to strangle him. “Are you sure these are all the pictures and fingerprints of the people who attended the party?” He asked for what had to be the millionth time in the past hour, going back to the first file and starting going through them all over again.

 

“Yes, 007, I am sure,” the woman growled, flexing her fingers. “Are you sure you want to keep bugging me? Because I am the handler on your next mission and unlike darling overlord, I will really send you with a simple watch that only tells time and a paper clip in your pocket.”

 

“Is it an exploding paperclip?” James teasingly asked, easily dodging the woman’s punch. “I am not being annoying on purpose, you know. I just want to find out who this man is and then I am out of your hair.”

 

“Until you get bored and fall for someone new, I know, I know,” she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, I have actual work to do so feel free to wear out the keyboard’s arrows. I’ll deduct their cost from your fee.”

 

“The Quartermaster has dibs on my fee for the next forty years.” This time he didn’t bother to dodge the fist he felt coming towards his shoulder and he regretted it because it turned out that it was Alec who took a swing at him and that bastard could punch.

 

“Q tasked me with protecting R from your annoyance,” the man said quickly, hands held up in front of himself. “And before you ask, I got back last night because I got bored and I didn’t want to miss this sour look you have on your face.” He threw his arm around James’ shoulders and ignored the elbow to his ribs, squeezing him as tightly as he could. “Is the masked lay that good in bed? Because I have never seen you so desperate to find out the name of your one-night stands.”

 

James frowned and tired to disentangle his nosy friend from him. “Go away Alec; I am very busy here.”

 

“Oh my God, you didn’t even bed him,” Alec said suddenly, jumping back so he could let out a loud roar of laughter, R putting noise cancelling headset over her ears. “James, my friend, are you losing your touch? Do you want me to be your wingman?”

 

When it came to them, the term wingman had two definitions: the classical one and the one which actually meant sharing a bed with the third party. Normally, because their relationship was a strange one in which they were lovers only on certain occasions, James would have thought about the second definition – as long as the third party was interested in that, of course. But there was something about the masked man that made James want to keep him just for himself.

 

Patting Alec’s back, James subtly pushed a chair close to him just in case he decided to be overly dramatic. “I am not losing my touch, he’s just a huge tease and I don’t want a wingman this time.”

 

The chair was in instant use. “Is my James in love?” Alec asked, tugging James down by his tie. “You have to introduce him to me, James. I am curious just who is it that stole your heart and if you don’t have me as your best man at your wedding, you are dead to me.” He turned towards R and tugged her headset off, grinning like a maniac. “James is getting married!”

 

The woman rolled her eyes and pushed her hand in Alec’s face to keep him from talking or moving closer to her. “Take the bloody files on an USB stick and get out of this office before I lose what little I have left of my patience. And take the maniac with you.” 

 

They were gone in an instant, Alec dragging James in the nearest bar and demanding to hear the whole story, upset that he was constantly being left out of the loop – not on purpose, James was quick to assure him.

 

“Then why have I not met your future husband?” Alec grumbled like a spoiled child who had been denied his favourite TV programme.

 

James sighed, hitting his head against the dirty bar counter. “You are the second one to accuse me of getting married this week.” He feared the day Q and Alec would spend enough time together to become actual friends because he was sure they would team up against him on absolutely every little thing. “And I just want to find out who he is and return a _favour_ before...” He trailed off and frowned, suddenly at a loss of words.

 

This went way beyond him wanting to pay the man with the same card and that realization struck him like a ton of bricks and scared him even more than that one time a laser was an inch  away from splitting him in half.

 

Alec patted his back and pushed the glass of alcohol closer to him. “No need to panic, my friend. You don’t know for sure.” Of course Alec would know what realization struck him before saying it out loud. “I am sure it’s just the mystery and if you’re still interested in him after find out who he is, then just accept it and go with the flow.”

 

“He didn’t even say a word, Alec. Ignoring that I do not even know so much as his name, I don’t even know what he’s interested in.” A double oh agent shouldn’t be whining like this, but then again the ideal double oh agent was nothing more than a killing machine that executed orders without questioning them and this description did not fit James at all.

 

“Well, you know he’s interested in you, so that’s a start.”

 

***

 

James tried to convince M to have the masquerade party every month, but that idea was shot down faster than an exposed agent in the middle of an enemy’s den. “We cannot afford that for both a financial point of view and time wise, Bond.” She was tapping her fingers against her desk, her body posture making it more than clear that she would not change her mind.

 

But James was not about to give up just yet and he knew that if he pushed it long enough, they would come to some sort of  agreement. “What if I pay for everything? Catering, electricity, drinks? Would you agree then?”  

 

“MI6 cannot throw a party every month, Bond. Two masquerades a year, plus a Christmas party is more than enough.” She motioned him closer and grabbed his tie to drag him closer still, trying to kill him with her glare. “Is this because you are trying to sleep with someone?”

 

“Whatever gave you that idea, M?” James asked innocently, batting his eyelashes. “I am just thinking about the collective’s state of mind and wellbeing and I think—”

 

“Drop it, Bond, because it will not work.” She let go of his tie and pushed him back, pulling out an almost empty bottle of aspirins from one of her drawers. “If you are that horny, I will just schedule five honey pot missions one after another. That should be enough to satisfy even you.”

 

This was not the kind of agreement James had in mind and she was already on her phone while Eve was practically manhandling him out of the office, trying really hard – and failing – to keep herself from laughing. “Give it a rest, Bond, and just use what little bit you have left of your brain,” she advised him and James realized that she knew.

 

“Eve, I will buy you an island, a private plane, a brand new car, and I will never mock your current or future lovers if you just tell me who he is.” He was throwing everything he got at a woman, which was a huge mistake, but the answer was just there and he was tired of having to bargain to get what he needed.

 

“You can offer me the world and I still won’t tell you.” She patted the top of his head and smiled. “Just keep your eyes and ears opened, don’t rely on anyone else and leave behind a love bite that isn’t easily hidden by foundation.”

 

He sort of took her words to the heart and he spent the next months building a file and conducting investigations on every male in MI6 who was Eve’s friend because the woman never went out of her way to help a co-worker this much outside of work. Quite a few of her male friends had a similar built to his masked tease and James realized that she had managed to befriend everyone within Q’s branch.

 

After that, he started to notice that she was greeted with smiles from everyone and Q even went as far as stopping from what he was doing to hug her and kiss her cheeks. He didn’t doubt that they were just friends and nothing else and he understood why she was so well received by the minions, but he still couldn’t help but be jealous that Q appeared to pay more attention to her than to him.

 

Alec snuck up on him during one of his not-so-subtle stakeouts, getting a kick out of the fact that James jumped over a desk, pushed the poor minion who was trying to eat with chopsticks behind him and used the chair as a shield after his side was poked. “Honestly, James, you are as tense as a bowstring. You either need a few missions to help you get rid of this stress or _something_ to unwind you.” 

 

“Or you need to stop sneaking up on me,” James hissed, pulling the glaring minion up and dusting his lab coat. “Please tell your Quartermaster that I tried to protect you?” The man huffed and stomped away, muttering something about bloody double ohs who have something against people eating. “I’ll pay for your lunch!” He called out and the man just walked faster, James hitting his head against the desk. “Q will lecture me on scaring his minions again.”

 

Pulling up a chair next to James, Alec picked up a fork and started to devour what was left of the food. “I am curious as to how all of this is related to the Masked Blue Ball-er.”

 

James slowly straightened up and blinked. “To the what?”

 

“To the Masked Blue Ball-er. This is what I decided to call your mysterious crush.” Of course he did; why wouldn’t he go for the most ridiculous nickname ever? “Eve likes that name and R gave it thumbs up on our group.”

 

James felt one of his eyes start to twitch. “Dare I ask who else it is in that group?”

 

“Well, Q, who change its name from ‘7’s love life’ to ‘Masked Blue Ball-er gossip’, which everyone approved of.” He could try not to look so pleased when he was dropping these bombs on him. And weren’t they friends? More than friends, but not quite lovers and most definitely not family? “And then there’s Tanner, who keeps sharing pictures of his son’s scientific experiments for Q to fix and M who says nothing, but she reads every message.”

 

That settled it; they weren’t friends, they were enemies. “I swear to god, I am not the one who needs to grow up. It’s the world around me,” he grumbled and the only reason he didn’t stomp away was because the minion had been done complaining to Q and the man was signalling him in his office. “Bloody hell, this year is horrible.”

 

“ _Sometime this year, Bond,_ ” Q said through the coms and Alec just laughed, already typing something on his phone – probably letting everyone else in the group know that he was in big trouble, the bloody traitor.

 

The talk was a short one and because James did not do apologies – especially because he had tried to save the boffin – he ended up being banned for a few days from Q’s branch. However, that turned out to be a really move because James got to focus on his task again and quickly ruled out every bloody friend the woman had within MI6 – well, the only one on the list that seemed to fit the physical profile was Q, but he had checked to see if the man was really on vacation like he had claimed and it sadly checked out.

 

The new masquerade came and James was back to sulking in a corner, eyes darting around the room for the man. Thirty minutes in and he had decided that everything had been a really cruel joke on him played by Q’s department and he really didn’t think he deserved that even if he tende3d to accidentally spook them.

 

A glass of champagne suddenly appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Q’s worried eyes looking down at him from behind new glasses. “Still using the classical costume, James?” He asked softly, his voice not quite fully drowned by the music.

 

James accepted the glass and only when their hands brushed against each other did he notice what the man was dressed in. The dark blue suit with thin, grey stripes appeared to be painted on his body and the patterned tie on which dark green was the dominating colour really brought his eyes out.

 

“If you are a dressed as a double oh agent, I’d sell my country’s secrets to you if you didn’t know more than me,” he breathed out and Q started to laugh, tilting his head back a little. “The stitching looks familiar,” he added and patted the empty chair next to him, inviting Q to sit.

 

Because the music was suddenly louder, Q was forced to lean close to James, the agent loving the warmth and smell that washed over him. “I decided to take your advice and I paid a visit to your tailor. He really knows what he’s doing and I understand why he costs so much.”

 

“You should have told him to...” He realized that Q couldn’t hear him, so he brought his arm around his shoulders and pulled the man closer, lips over his ear. “You should have given him my name and he wouldn’t have charged you a single penny.”

 

Q chuckled and pushed him back a little, the lips against his ear very familiar. “It wouldn’t have been fair if I did that, James.” His brain registered just then that Q had called him by his given name. He also looked like he wanted to say something more, but something near his chest vibrated hard enough for James to feel and after glancing at it, Q’s looked mildly annoyed. “I had planned on waiting with you to see if your mystery man showed up, but a very important project requires my attention.”

 

He slipped from James’ arm before he could do anything and the people in the room seemed to be against him as they made room for the Quartermaster to pass, but blocked his. When Eve wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to the dance floor he groaned and gave up.

 

“You have the worst timing ever,” he shouted in the woman’s ear, the music going back down to acceptable levels.

 

She chuckled and turned him around, winking at her lover. “You were planning on pestering the poor man when he has something important to work on.”

 

Narrowing his eyes and sighing, James relaxed his body and allowed Eve to be the lead. “I am going to be honest for a moment and admit that I am jealous of you.” She looked at him curiously, her raised eyebrow asking him to expand on what he had said. “Q trust you so much more than he does me. And I don’t think he ever gave you the cold shoulder while I constantly end up getting frost bites.”

 

He thought that she would try to kill his foot again so he was completely unprepared when the woman shoved her fingers in his sides, eyes narrowed. “Mostly because I tend to have conversations with him at decent hours, not in the middle of the night. And do I really need to point out that I am not the one because of whom he keeps ending up in front of a disciplinary comity?”

 

“I offered to kill them for him but—” She tried to stab his sides with her sharp and strong nails again, but James jumped away just in time and twirled her around a few times, pulling her back against his chest and crossing her arms over her own chest, trapping her.

 

“If you keep holding me like this, the one you’re interested in might get the wrong idea,” she warned and James stepped away from her, looking around the room.

 

“Q’s back?” He asked without thinking and even with the music, she heard Eve gasp. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I am interested in him in the sense that he shouldn’t have had to pay for the suit he had on and I want to help him with getting him money back.” That was so dumb and so lame, that not even a completely wasted Alec would have bought it.

 

“I will inform M that you need to attend certain classes again, James, but until then...” She trailed off and pointed behind them, at the masked man who was surveying the room. “Try not to end up tied up again tonight, James, or else M said she will demote you back to junior agent.”

 

It was clear why the woman had been a spy and he didn’t have a doubt that she would have been the best double oh agent if Istanbul wouldn’t had happened. Still, her ability to find out so many things without looking like she tried to hard made her life as M’s secretary a lot easier – and it also gave M a lot more power which in turn, made eve even more fearsome than she already was.

 

He went directly to the man and smirked at him, pulling him into a hug. “Are you as excited as I am about our dance?” He asked, grinding against the man to make his innuendo even more obvious than it already was, but apparently his unknown partner had other plans.

 

James was dragged off of the dance floor and out the room, the man pushing him into a car driven by someone who was clearly Alec in disguise. Great, so now he was dealing with the possibility of _everyone_ but him knowing the identity of the Masked Blue Ball-er. “You are a bloody traitor, you know that?” He spat at Alec, eyes rolling in the back of his head when his neck was suddenly assaulted by teeth.

 

“I do not know what you are talking about, sir,” not-Alec said in a thick, Texan accent, the car picking up in speed as the masked man pulled him into a deep and rough kiss, already unbuttoning his shirt and jacket.

 

It didn’t take long for them to reach James’ apartment, the man practically ripping his clothes off as he made his way towards the bedroom. James chuckled and was quick to follow, making sure the ties were stuffed under his sofa pillows.

 

He was greeted by a sight of a completely naked man sans the mask lying on his bed, completely naked, shaved and looking like he was more than ready to be taken. James quickly joined in and they began kissing, positioning the man under him and doing his best not to get distracted by how much the mask’s hairs tickled his nose.

 

The man slid down, trailing little kisses on James’ chest, wrapping his legs around his middle and rubbing their hardened members together, barely managing to hold back a moan even though it would have been drowned by how James’.

 

But then James opened his eyes and they landed on one of his suits and he ripped himself away from the man because his mind was suddenly on someone else and everything felt beyond wrong. “We can’t do this,” he breathed out, rubbing his face furiously because the epiphany he just had could have dawned on him a lot sooner.

 

The man clicked his tongue and almost said something, but he stopped himself just in time and opted to tug on James’ arm to get him to look at him. “ _What’s wrong? Is this because of what I did the last time?”_ The man signed and James just zoned in on the fingers, which caused the other to quickly hide his hands behind his back, pulling his legs under him.

 

Trying to remember who had fingers like that would be useless, James decided, because no matter what he did, Q was on his mind. “My revenge would also involve you being tied to my bed, fingers ghosting but never touching and nothing is wrong per se, except...” He trailed off, his tongue suddenly tied.

 

How could the fact that he had just realized he wanted Q in his bed until hell froze over without insulting him? For that matter, how could he bring this up with the other man? Just strut in his office, declare what he assumed to be his undying love and then proceed to throw all sorts of shiny and expensive objects at him until he agreed to go to lunch to him or he called security to drag him to the nut house?

 

The man’s head popped in his field of vision, looking a bit worried and mischievous at the same time, slowly moving his lips to allow James to read them properly. “ _Are you having a heart attack? Are there some pills that you’re supposed to be taking? Do you want me to call Medical?”_

He flicked the man’s nose, laughing. Q would have loved those jokes and would have probably promised to use them himself in the future. “Why do you boffins love to mock me when 009 is clearly older than me? I mean he even has white hair, for heaven’s sake. Is it because he always brings Q those Belgian chocolates?” The man rolled his eyes and got out of the bed, starting to fish around for his clothes, clearly sad and disappointed. “It’s not you it’s—”

 

The way the man glared at him had James’ blood freezing in his veins. “ _Don’t you dare gave me that line, James Bond,”_ the man signed, huffing as he returned to pulling his boxers back on.

 

Something clicked in James’ mind and he grinned, moving to hug the sullen man. “I actually wanted to tell you that it’s my Quartermaster.” Tried to turn around, but James just held on tighter, kissing his neck. “Yes, I have a thing for the head boffin who is, by far, the smartest man I have ever met. He’s also the sneakiest and the most resourceful boffin I know and he could give any double oh a run for their money, but someone who I would never want to be an actual agent in the field.”

 

He slowly moved back to the bed and released him before sitting down. It was his move and James really hoped that he would turn around and take off his mask and purple contact lenses out so they could finally have a conversation.

 

“I thought about wearing gloves,” the man said in that voice that made James feel safe and confident even when he was in a room filled with enemies that were armed to the teeth, “but I never thought you’d actually pay attention to my hands.”

 

Q struggled with his mask a bit, the damned thing coming off only when James lent him a hand. “How did you manage to be in two places at once? The time we got interrupted, you were dressed in your pyjamas when—”

 

“I always plan for all types of situations, so I rented a motel room not too far away from Vauxhall,” Q said simply, shrugging which prompted James to wrap the bed covers around him and rub his back to try and warm him up.

 

“And when I called you after you almost killed me? It sounded like you were in a train and when I checked—”

 

Q snorted, crossing his arms over his chest to look smugly at James. “Really, James? Do you think it is hard for me to invent a little app for my phone to have whatever sounds I want in the background? Or to make it seem like I was on the right train when in fact I took a later one?”

 

James looked at him for a moment, looked at his slightly red and puffy eyes from the contact lenses and pushed him down on the bed, kissing him deeply. Now that he knew he had Q under him and realized that the spicy taste under all the mint was actually the man’s favourite tea, the kiss was infinitely better.

 

And because the metaphorical cat was out of the bag, Q had absolutely no reason to hold his moans back and James felt himself become dizzy with all the little noises he let out as he wiggled under him, their hardening members rubbing against each other.

 

It was as if all the planets had aligned for this and yet James still didn’t feel like this was right 100%, so he pulled away and Q let out a little whine, wrapping his legs around his middle. “What is it now, James?” He demanded, glaring. “If it wasn’t the masked man, but the Quartermaster, who is currently under you and more than willing, why are you hesitating? Are you sure you don’t need a pill?”

 

James pinched Q’s nipple, regretting it because instead of a flinch, he got a low moan which made him harder. “The masked man would have been a one-night stand or a seasonal one. But you...” He trailed off, caressing Q’s face. “How about you do breakfast? And then each other and then lunch and then each other again and then dinner and then—”

 

Q covered James’ mouth, chuckling. “I got the idea, James, don’t worry.” He kissed his nose and started to scratch the back of his head as if he was a giant cat – and since James felt the need to start purring and rub his face against Q’s, maybe the younger man knew something he didn’t. “I have nothing against doing all of that, since I did the whole masked thing because...” He trailed off and his face turned red. “Well, let’s just say that I don’t fit your mold when it comes to blitz relationships or one-night stands.”

 

“You really don’t.” Q suddenly turned white and he froze under James, eyes wide. “You fill the other mold, the one I didn’t know I had until I started to fume that Eve got hugs and kisses from you,” he added quickly, covering Q’s face in kisses. “Or that time I wanted to break one of your minion’s fingers because he got to _pinch_ your lower back and you laughed without actually hurting him,” he continued in a growl, sliding his hand down Q’s sides and behind him to pinch him.

 

Q yelped and tried to turn on his side. “He’s an old friend with whom I used to hack before getting the offer I really couldn’t refuse from MI6, you brute.”

 

Oh, he was going to have to be really careful with that minion because he knew a lot of instances in which these type of friends secretly harboured crushes and they did everything in their power to win their friend.

 

“James, don’t even think about it,” Q said in his serious voice, eyes narrowed – although he suspected that might be connected with the fact that he didn’t have anything to help him see better.

 

“I am not thinking of anything,” James lied through his teeth. “Well, I am thinking of all the things I am going to do to you and all the ways I’ll take you,” he corrected himself, attacking Q’s neck to distract him.

 

He was going to cover his neck in love bits and make sure that every minion saw them kissing, even planning on e-mailing every MI employee an official notice that Q was no longer on the market, strongly advising the ones with crushes on him to find someone new because James did not plan on ever giving him up.

 

“Just don’t challenge them to duels,” Q breathed out, chuckling.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3


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